I guess if you really wanted to tell the story right, you would have to start with his eyes. He has those wolf blue eyes, both his parents had them. That pale blue that reminds me of pictures of glaciers I’d seen in National Geographic as a kid. Surrounding those perfect circles of ice are fault lines, some would call them smile lines of crows feet but for me I think of I think of the San Andreas or the cracks that form on the lake bed after a long drought.

They’ve always seen God like to me and at the same time condescending and playful. Like the coyote they just stole your chicken and looks back at you from the top of the hill. Many times I’ve had to face those eyes. I’ve been questioned by those eyes, embarrassed by those eyes, put on the hot seat by those eyes, they were unbreakable, bullet proof.

But on this day, those eyes broke.

On this day, a beautiful sunny afternoon, in that Indian summer weather where the hills are green and the plants flirt with your nose.

On this day, those eyes broke.

When the Samoan climbed off of me I couldn’t move my leg. I’d just thrown a pass to Danny Gerard and before I saw him drop it everything went dark. I’d been steamrolled by the left end of cappuccino high. When I tried to stand up I realized my leg was on backwards. And I dragged myself 8 yards into the end zone. The medic came out and cut my pads off “oh my God” he said when my leg was exposed to that crisp September air. “Call the bus”

He waited on the sidelines, he waited because he didn’t want to embarrass me. He knew that I could take a hit, have a finger broken or the wind knocked out of me. He knew I could take it. But when they told him Ben asked for you he came running. And as I looked up into the beautiful autumn sky those faded sapphire eyes joined mine, the fault lines quivered and the Glaciers crumbled and fell into the sea. Those fearless iron eyes broke, and for the first time I saw my father helpless.